


You'll always have a pizza my heart

by elliceluella



Category: Daredevil (TV), Santa Clarita Diet (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crossover, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 14:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9825266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliceluella/pseuds/elliceluella
Summary: Matt wrinkles his nose before he giggles and says, “You smell all iron-y and a little like after Nobu—”Damn Matt’s non-existent brain-to-mouth filter. Foggy cuts in with loud, awkward laughter. “Matt has a really keen sense of smell. He’s also into Japanese.”“Ooh, Japanese! Honey, we should totally try that someday,” Sheila says, and quickly adds, “Again, I mean. We’ve obviously had sushi before,” when Joel looks like he’s about to choke on his potato skins.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is for my "AU: Crossover" square on the bingo card~

Matt may walk the straight and narrow when it comes to snacking, but he isn’t above taking advantage of post-Valentine's’ Day discount chocolates, a trait Foggy continues to be deeply thankful for. 

“A true gentleman after my own heart,” Foggy declares, after Matt presents the box with a flourish, and laughs when Matt takes a bow. “Keep this up and I just might have to say yes when you propose.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Matt says, with a grin. “I think I’ll make you work for it before I ask for your hand.”   
  
“Excuse you. I’ll have you know that Foggy Nelson is a dream catch and having me would be nothing but sheer privilege,” Foggy declares, as he pops a piece of chocolate into his mouth. “Mmph. These are  _ so good _ , Matt,” he says, mouth full. “Where’d you say you got these from again?”

“I didn’t,” Matt answers, the cheeky bastard. He’s weirdly preppy today. “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

“Fine. In that case, consider yourself tasked with the distinct pleasure of buying me five more boxes,” Foggy says, after he places the box on a shelf in the fridge and resolutely does  _ not  _ make moon eyes at it before closing the door. “Come on, let’s go to that new place you’ve been raving about all month.”

“Not raving.  _ Passionate, _ ” Matt states, shrugging his coat on. “Since it’s my turn this year.” His turn to make plans for post-Valentine’s, another thing that’s evolved into another special tradition as the years went by.

“Eh,” Foggy waves a hand. “Semantics and Murdock charm. Which, as you well know, I’ve been desensitized to.”

“Ten years of hearing me expel various bodily gases will do that to a person.” Matt nods, solemnly. Foggy snorts.

It turns out Matt’s raving is totally justified. The buffalo wings are to die for, ditto the craft beer (which have all been given love-themed names in honor of the season), and there’s a post-Valentine’s couple’s promotion going on. Apparently, Matt also isn’t above playing into the assumptions people tend to make when they spot Matt and Foggy together. 

The face Matt makes when Foggy bites into a wing and straight out moans is straight up I-told-you-so, but Foggy’s too far gone on taste bud nirvana to care. He’s totally getting back at Matt next year, though. 

Matt’s red-faced and giggly and clingy four drinks in, and Foggy’s fumbling with his phone, trying to take a video of Matt for posterity and, maybe a little ribbing, when—

“Oh, here, let me help,” a lady behind him says.

Foggy turns to say thanks, and stops.

“Sheila?”

“Oh my god! Foggy?” Sheila asks. “Foggy Nelson?”

“Yeah! It’s so good to see you!” Foggy says and gives her a quick side hug without jostling Matt. “Oh, Matt, this is Sheila. We were science lab partners in middle school before she moved away.” 

Matt smiles and waves before returning to his spot on Foggy’s shoulder.

“Sheila, this is Matt, my best friend and law partner who can’t hold his alcohol for shit,” Foggy says, lightly ruffling Matt’s hair and Matt retaliates by booping Foggy on the nose. “Hey!” Foggy yelps. 

Sheila introduces them to her husband, Joel, once he returns with drinks. They catch up for a while, Foggy trying to reconcile the quiet friend he remembered in school with the Sheila before him.

Joel talks about their daughter and their real estate business and Sheila absolutely beams at him, and it might be the drinks or the atmosphere but Foggy feels himself going soft and gooey looking at the couple. 

Matt’s super senses must still be pretty sharp if he can hear or smell or  _ something _ the way Foggy’s insides are melting, because he pats Foggy’s arm and sings, “Don’t worry, Foggy. You’ll always have meeee”, soft enough that only Foggy can hear. 

Foggy’s about to give Matt’s arm a squeeze by way of thanks when Sheila burps. Really loudly.

Joel looks like a deer in the headlights for a quick second before Sheila laughs and apologizes. “It’s been happening a lot more with the new diet I’m on,” she says.

Matt wrinkles his nose before he giggles and says, “You smell all iron-y and a little like after Nobu—”

Damn Matt’s non-existent brain-to-mouth filter. Foggy cuts in with loud, awkward laughter. “Matt has a really keen sense of smell. He’s also into Japanese.” 

“Ooh, Japanese! Honey, we should totally try that someday,” Sheila says, and quickly adds, “Again, I mean. We’ve obviously had sushi before,” when Joel looks like he’s about to choke on his potato skins. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Joel says after he takes a long pull on his beer.

“I’m on this new diet,” Sheila explains to Matt and Foggy. “It’s very high protein and I literally feel like a different person. Oh! And it’s free-range too, so, y’know, healthier.”

Joel chuckles a little when Sheila mentions free-range. “Sheila’s living her best life. That’s also how we got our new Range Rover.”

“See, I knew you’d warm up to it sooner or later,” Sheila says, kissing Joel on the cheek when he lets out a long suffering fond sigh.

“Foggy, Foggy.” Matt tugs on Foggy’s arm. “Is Sheila a ninja? I can’t hear her heartbeat,” he whispers that last bit. Okay, so apparently Foggy stands corrected about Matt’s super senses still being pretty sharp. Matt’s whisper also fails to be whisper-adjacent at all and the couple laugh, low and easy although Joel looks vaguely like he’s suffering from indigestion. Foggy wonders if he should point them to the nearest Rite Aid.

“Alright, I think it’s time for someone to go to bed, Matty,” Foggy says, and prays his jedi mind trick works and Matt won’t say another word.

*

“Do you think what Sheila said when she hugged you goodbye is true?” Matt asks, later when he’s back at Foggy’s and swimming in an oversized shirt on Foggy’s couch. 

Foggy pretends to take forever forming a reply but gives in when Matt sticks his cold hands under Foggy’s shirt to tickle him. “Alright alright stop!” Foggy says, wheezing with laughter. “Of course it’s true. Damn straight we look cute together, duh.”

Matt’s absolutely beaming. He pats Foggy’s face and giggles before he settles in and pulls the blanket up to his chin. “Hey Foggy?”

“Yeah?”

“Wouldn't it be funny if Sheila smelled that way because her special diet consisted of eating people? And also if she didn’t have a heartbeat because she’s a zombie?” 

Foggy groans. “Okay that's it. No more Walking Dead for you, mister,” he says. He gets up and puts a bottle of water on the coffee table. 

“I know you like having me to hide behind during the squeamish parts,” Matt grins, smug and sleepy now. “I’ll keep you safe from the scary zombies,” he says, yawning around his words. 

“My hero,” Foggy agrees. “Now go to bed.”

“Night, Foggy. Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” Matt mumbles.

“You gonna keep me safe from those too?”

“Of course.”

**Author's Note:**

> Cheesy title for a post-vday fic that got whipped up in a day or so and is probably a hot mess :p 
> 
> Come say hi on [Tumblr](ellicelluella.tumblr.com)!


End file.
